


The Afterlife

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, F/M, M/M, Multi, Pre-Sburb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:47:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels in Heaven, Demons in Hell.<br/>It's a straightforward concept, one most people can grasp with ease, and for the purposes of a recounting such as this one, there will be heavy oversimplifications of facts, so that a mortal like yourself can understand them- but there are intricacies, specifics that sometimes don't even have names, and so details may be omitted for the sake of your sanity and the balance of human nature and the ability to cope with the understanding of a celestial or otherworldly realm to begin with.<br/>{Your pairing may take a while to load. Please wait.}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In The Beginning

They say angels get their wings when a Church bell tolls, and that fairies are born of a child's first laugh. John Egbert knows that one of these things is not true- despite never seeing a fairy before, he knows that plenty of Church bells toll, and none of them gave him his wings. Only God can do that.

Upon arriving in Heaven after Judgment, John is greeted by an Archangel named Jane. She bestows upon him a Fledgling’s outfit. John is unimpressed and sort of let down- he expected those strange toga-like things on cathedral stained glass windows. Jane shatters some of his misconceptions of Heaven and Angels in one fell swoop by waving a hand over his torso and turning his clothes into a dove-gray button down and jeans with some plain matching sneakers. 

"Sorry to burst your bubble, John, but we're not exactly in those ages anymore. You'd think they would realize we do update our clothing, at the very least." Jane tsks as she smoothes her fingers over his shirt and adjusts it to her liking.

"Huh?"

"You were thinking about your new uniform. How it doesn't suit your image of Angels."

"You can read minds?"

"No, I saw it on your face." Jane presses her index finger to his nose affectionately, and straightened up again. She was a good four inches shorter than John, but he thought of how she radiated warmth, and how controlled she seemed; she absolutely oozed righteousness, and it put him in a bit of awe. 

"Now, John, I am your teacher, and you are my charge. I am to teach you all there is to know about Heaven, your duty as an angel, and to keep you under my wing until you are an Archangel yourself."

"Archangel? Like, the ones in the Bible?" John looks wide-eyed.

"Yes. Archangels are the highest ranking Angel in Heaven. God's Council, the Archangels Michael, Gabriel, and so forth, are like secretaries- they have been around forever. So while I could technically say /they/ are the highest ranking, you cannot achieve their position."

"Oh. Man, God has a council?"

"Of course he does. He's a busy man, John; he barely has time to bestow audience for induction of Archangels." Jane moves back a pace, and spreads her white wings full- they're feathery, beautiful, absolutely radiating a silver-white light prettier than one John has ever seen. It is only now that John really gets a good look at Jane- her face is round, her cheeks are puffy, her eyes a brilliant cyan. She wears a white dress, just past her knees, flowing and empire-waisted, with sleeves that reach her elbows and billow out as air flutters through the material. A gold belt is around her waist, and her neck is adorned with silver pearls. Her hair is jet black, and sticks upward in a few places, but it's charming and John can tell it is purposeful, characteristic of her and not a result of laziness or lack of care. However, most distracting are the wings on Jane's back, which seemingly go on forever- the span of her wings was incredible, and the thing that John had the hardest time looking away from.

"My wings are twelve feet in span, from tip to tip." She explains with a little, knowing smile. "And I worked hard for them. For a very long time."

"Wow. Do I get wings, too?"

"Yes, very soon, you'll get your wings, and you will work to grow them. Someday you'll have twelve, too. You start with six to eight, depending on His judgment of your capabilities based on your performance until your first of two audiences." she folds her wings into her back, and they neatly tuck.

"Performance? Audiences?"

"I know you have many questions, John, and I am your teacher, so I encourage you to ask them- but you absolutely must be patient. Knowledge takes time. You have eternity- you will learn everything." Jane reaches out, takes his hand, and John is flooded with control. He looks at her, confused, but trusting. "I am the Archangel of Temperance. What you first must know is that there are seven Cardinal Virtues, and each angel is bestowed a virtue to represent when they achieve Archangelic status. Chastity, Charity, Diligence, Patience, Kindness, and Humility are the other six. They counter the seven Deadly Sins."

"Oh. Will I become one of those, then, too?"

"Yes, John. But only God can tell you what you represent. You can guess, other Archangels can tell you, but only He will be able to discern for certain. Anyone who gets it right is just a lucky guesser." She winks, and begins to walk him along, slowly.

"Right. So, um, what do I have to do to become an Archangel?" John is a little nervous, and Jane tries to comfort him by rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand.

"Nothing scary, John. You're already dead, it won't threaten your life. An Angel's job, of any rank, is to recruit mortal lives. Keep them on the path up here."

"Like a Guardian Angel?"

"A little. A mortal's idea of a Guardian Angel is a singular Angel assigned to them at some stage of life to stay with them and guide them. They don't realize that there are Angels for different Virtues, that not all of them are equipped to handle every mortal situation."

"So how do we keep human beings on the right road?"

"I'm about to show you. You're coming on a fairly easy assignment, for me. I am an Archangel, I typically deal with much more complex and older cases, but for the purposes of teaching you, I'm bringing you with me on a very easy assignment."

Jane has led John to a misty hill overlooking what seem to be millions of individual clouds. Each cloud reflects a hazy vision of a human being's daily life- some at school, some on the streets, in offices, playgrounds, slums, mansions. Every race, shape, size, and age is varied widely, and nothing seems to have a pattern or organized separation, as John stares at the clouds that crawl by at a turtle's pace.

"This is where I reach my assignments. All of the people you see here are in need of help. When you get a little experience, you'll learn how to reach inside yourself, and spot which person needs your specific guidance." she lets her eyes rove over clouds one by one, and then she points. "That boy in the blue shirt there. That's where we're going. Now, John, you do not exist on the same plane as this boy, and he cannot hear, see, smell, taste, or touch you, no matter how desperately you try. So don't worry about spooking him, or making a fool of yourself."

John looks relieved almost immediately, but pales slightly as Jane speaks again. 

"However, there will be a Demon there who can see you. They more than likely will not pay you any mind, you're too young for them to really care for, but you should know- this is my assignment. I will take care of everything. You do not need to worry or step in. Is that understood?"

John gives a nod, and Jane sets a hand on his shoulder. He instantly feels worlds better, and his nerves feel absolutely washed away by some kind of comforting embrace he can't really describe. He takes a slow, deep breath, and closes his eyes. When he opens them, Jane's wings are spread and her hand is back to holding his.

"In order to reach him, we must jump. You can fly. No Angel needs wings to fly; it is simply a display of rank and power. Are you ready?" He gives a nod. "One, two, three."

John jumps with Jane, and they sink into the cloud depicting the boy's life as he is at home with a box of cookies on his desk and homework under his hand. To his left is a young man in what appears to be his teenage years, with scruffy orange hair and bright green eyes, squinting hard at the little boy (who could be no older than eight years), with leathery brown-red wings spread and a tail lashing back and forth. He wears jeans and a t-shirt, informal and sloppy.

Jane lets go of John's hand, and approaches the little boy on his right. She smoothes down his hair, kisses his forehead, and holds a hand over the box of cookies. "Zachary, these cookies are for your brothers and sisters, too. You shouldn't eat the whole box before they get home."

"Oh, Zach, what's the harm in a few more? Mom didn't say not to, after all." The redheaded man hisses against his ear, glaring at Jane. The boy seems to falter a little, and reach for a cookie. Jane's eyes settle on his face in profile view, and she smiles softly.

"Zacharie, remember- you are a generous, selfless boy. Your self-control is much greater than this. You love your brothers, your sisters, and seeing them happy is more than filling for you." That seems to seal the deal. Zacharie seals the bag of cookies, puts it in the cupboard, and goes to his homework as the redhead curses and vanishes in a cloud of wispy smoke.

John stands nearby, hands in his pockets, observing- and grins when Jane seems to "win".

"So we're like the Angels and Devils in the cartoons, on shoulders like that?" He asks, apparently trying to liken it to things he'd seen before.

Jane laughs slightly and nods, clasping her hands in front of herself again. "I suppose you could think of it that way, yes. It's a little less involved, though- Zacharie didn't hear us, when we were speaking to him. He just felt the tugs at his conscience. Little ones have a pretty decent grasp of right and wrong, and it's easy to shape them when they are little, to learn. You will start off with children, sometimes younger than Zacharie, and work your way up as I see fit."

"Seems pretty easy." John blinks, and then glances at Jane's wingspan again. "But then, you're an Archangel, so I guess it would be, for you. That was a demon, right?"

Jane nods. "Yes, a little more powerful than you, but not by much. Demons can hide their wings at will, but not their tails. The one you saw was just displaying them as a show of dominance and power. Most of them do, actually, especially if they're threatened. Now, let's leave Zacharie to his afternoon and get back upstairs, hm? You've had quite the lesson. You deserve to rest and explore a little before we dive back in."

John nods, and reaches out for Jane's hand instinctively. She takes it and squeezes, smiling big and bright at him. "Leaving a cloud is just as easy as coming. Look up." John does, and what he sees is a hazy mist that tapers off into white nothingness. "That's Heaven. Only we can see it. All you've got to do is jump, think of jumping very high- and we're back. One, two, three."

John jumps, and before he knows it, they're back on the misty hill, where Jane is turning him back to leave the area. "The next thing we'll be discussing is, sadly, a little less exciting. There are rules up here- and I'm sure that you have already mostly understood them- but I do have some to teach you just in case.

But for now, like I said, you deserve a break. Wander about a while, see what you can see- maybe make some Fledgling friends? Couldn't hurt. You'll be up here a while, after all." She winks, and lets his hand go. "No space here is forbidden. You are free. I will call you back when it is time to resume our lessons."

"How will I find you? What if I don't hear you?"

"Don't worry, John. I will find you." And Jane is gone in the blink of an eye, leaving John to do as she told him, and explore.


	2. God created the Heaven and the Earth.

John's eyes are watering, his stomach is aching, his ribs shake and his lungs clatter with breaths too short and small for proper recovery. His hands reach out and grip into a white shirt while his knees bend, and he ignores the harsh reprimands being given to him as he struggles to compose himself.  
It wasn't his fault that Jake was the most gullible Angel in Heaven.

"HOW is this not a sin to an absolutely selfish degree!?" Jake cries, outraged as he wipes a custard-cream filling from his cheeks and shakes his fingers until it drips to the ground and vanishes. "What purpose did this serve?!"

"Laughter." Jane grins at him, arms uncrossing from her smug stance to gently wave over his face and torso, the pie mess vanishing at once.

"Laughter!" Jake repeats, incredulous, while inspecting himself to ensure no remnants remained. "So springing a baked good on me while I was completely unaware for laughs?!"

"Oh, man, the look on your FACE though." John wipes the corners of his eyes, sighs, and puts his hands in his pockets. He's exhausted from laughter and has not the energy to mock to a further degree- yet.

"Criminey, I oughtta-" Jake reaches up, shakes a fist in John's face, but just as he's about to threaten the other boy's smirk off his face, he stops. "You're lucky I've gotta get to work, Egbert, or you'd never hear the end of it. Got that?" Jake reaches over, then, to rub his knuckles over John's scalp tight, while gripping him around the neck with his arm. A sufficiently rough noogie.

"Ow!" John whines, trying to squirm from his grasp, but Jake's strong. It doesn't matter much, in the long run, because Jake lets him go seconds later and begins to half-jog away. John stares after him, rubbing his head with a pout on his face, as Jane comes up to him and sets a hand on his shoulder.

"I think you'd better go now, too, John. I see that you're doing plenty of good work- getting brighter all the time." She smiles, and John feels his wings involuntarily flutter behind him, almost puffing out with pride. They're small, but he doesn't feel the least bit embarrassed about it. Jade's are equally as small. He looks down at his shirt and pants, and wonders if they really are any brighter, or if Jane's just saying that to flatter him. He can't tell the change when he lives in them.

"It's almost been a full decade. It's about time you start growing a bit, don't you think?" Jane smiles, that calming, gentle smile that John can melt into every time. He believes her wholeheartedly whenever she looks at him like that, he knows she wouldn't lie to him, or pander to his ego.

"I guess." He shrugs somewhat shyly, and starts to amble toward the big hill Jane once took him to. She stays at his side, walking with him.

"I'll show you after this assignment, how you've grown. Your clothes are much brighter, and even your wings have started to fill in a little more." she brushes her fingers over the backs of his feathers, and John shivers ever-so slightly. "Sorry, they'll be a bit sensitive for some time, till you start getting some real use of them. I forget you're still not used to how it all feels."

John just nods a bit, and they remain silent for the majority of the journey. Once John can see the big, misty hill up ahead, he begins to talk again. "So, someday, I'll have white clothes and big wings like you. That's the goal, here?"

"Well, yes and no. If your only desire is to look like me, then, I'm afraid you never will. Your desire has to be pure- you have to really want to help the mortals down there make good decisions." 

"I do! No, I do, don't get me wrong- I just- I mean the endgame for up here." He struggles to explain himself, feeling a little foolish. "I guess I'm just tired of being beneath everyone."

"Nonsense, don't talk like that. You've got plenty of Fledgling peers. Look at Jade, for example." She knows the two of them are close.

"Jade /is/ pretty great." John admits with a chuckle. "She seems like she'll make Arch in no time. Or at least, that she'll hit the ten-foot wingspan before I do."

"Who knows? Maybe make a good-natured race of it. Do your best work as often as you can, and you may just make it first." Jane now seems slightly distracted, peering over the edge of the hill and staring into the clouds, almost squinting.

"Hm, maybe I'll do that. It sounds fun." John considers not much paying attention to how concerned Jane suddenly seems with what's going on in the surface of the clouds that slowly pass by beneath them.

"John, listen to me." She turns to face him slightly, quite the serious expression on her face. "If I ever go down there- into a mortal's life- and you notice I am missing for a while- do not, under any circumstances, come to find me. Do you understand?"

"What? But-"

"John. I mean it. There are some things you are not meant to be aware of- at least, not yet- and you must trust me when I tell you not to come after me. I can't die, it's not like I'll never return. I'm just...busy." She reaches out and holds his shoulders, giving them a squeeze.

"Okay. I mean...if you say so." he frowns deeply. "But you've never been gone an unusual amount of time before."

"In comparison to whom?"

"Well, um...in comparison to Jake."

"Jake and I are gone for a very long time, in comparison to other Archangels. You stay close to us, so you don't notice, but it should only take us half the time. It's- it's a lot to explain. Maybe someday, later. But right now, you've got work to do, and I've got- well, work, too. I guess." She glances away, and then lets go of John's shoulders, before leaning over the hill.

"Jane, is everything okay?" John asks, in hardly a mutter. He's nervous. Jane doesn't hide things from him- at least, not like this. Not in a way where he becomes concerned.

"Yes. I promise everything is okay." She looks over at him, gives him that warm, comforting smile, and then dives downward- wings extending at full, letting her glide a bit, until she drops into a cloud far off.

John heaves a sigh, and mimics her, into a different surface. He wonders all the while what Jane could possibly be hiding from him, and his judgment is so clouded that he suffers a loss.

\--

"Chin up, bucko! It's just once, you can make it up later." A hearty pat on his back jars John from wallowing, as he sits down beside Jake with his knees curled into his chest, and his arms hugging his calves close to his body. "Everyone makes a mistake a few times. Can't win 'em all. Unless you're me, of course." Jake's chest puffs out and John has to laugh. He knows its empty ego shown for John's benefit, to make him smile. It works.

"Yeah, I know. I'm not really upset about - the mortal. I mean, I am, but, that's not what's bothering me the most."

"Ohhhh, so you're otherwise occupied. Well, that'll do it. If you aren't entirely focused, you're bound to lose one. What's on your mind, pal?"

"Uh, just...something Jane said, before I went to - my assignment." John fixates on a little patch of misty cloudlike substance, and uses his index finger to swirl it in a circle.

"Oh?"

"She said that you and her take a very long time on some assignments. Longer than you should, for Archangels. And that if she's ever gone for a long enough time that I want to go look for her, I shouldn't."

Jake seems to seize up a bit, and clears his throat. "Well! She and I do some high-level assignments, you know, big stuff, and a Fledge like you may not react well to the high levels of aura like that. Demons are a real pain, John!" But Jake is standing up even as he speaks, pretending to dust himself off.

"But-"

"But nothing! We just don't want you risking your neck for us, you know? Death isn't the worst that can happen to an Angel scorned. But enough about that. Let's go find Jade! I heard she faced off against TWO Fledgling Demons at once today and WON. I doubt that's the truth, I bet it's just inflated rumor, but gosh and golly gee am I eager to ask!"

John doesn't have time to question Jake further, as he's pulled away to find Jade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still doing some buildup. Promise things will continue to pick up as we go. Again, Kudos are awesome, but comments let me know how I can improve- and even just "nice!" can make my day.


	3. And the earth was without form, and void;

“Listen, I don’t know what they’re telling you up there, short stuff, but-”

“I am not short.”

“You’re five-foot-nothing, Egbert.”

“I’m not a towering gargoyle, no, but I am not /short/, either.”

“Gargoyles are cool, aight.”

“Gargoyles are known for being ugly pillars of stone-”

“Will you shut up for like, two seconds? Shit, you yap more than Rox.”

“Hypocrite.”

John’s not sure why he’s still lingering. His assignment was over and done with quite a while ago, and he lost. He lost and it was hard and he’s really not sure he should have been so distracted, but this demon- the one he was facing down right now- was unnervingly strong for his level.

Dave Strider, a much older Fledgling Demon from Hell, hovers nonchalantly in the air. His leathery bat-like wings are folded up against his back and his tail sways from side to side beneath him, as he reclines on his back, laying on nothingness, with his hands behind his head and his sunglasses neatly perched on top of his head.   
“We could do this the hard way, I could completely relax and you could go totally reeling with your guts all over the floor for mommy to come pick up.” He sighs, seeming almost bored, and it bothers John, but not so much as to overreact to the situation. No harm has come to anyone yet. Stay calm.

“Or I could just school you on life down in the basement for a little while till you agree to haul ass outta my spacial matter and never show your face again.”

“You’re a demon. It is literally my job to go against you, and keep mortals on the path to His light.” John deadpans, raising a brow.

“You do everything daddy tells you, that’s the problem. Is it outta fear, or somethin’ else? They all tell me it’s devout faith, but man, I gotta say- some of you- you don’t seem like you were all great in mortality.” Dave clicks his tongue and rolls over onto his stomach, shades flopping down onto his nose. Despite this, John knows he’s being watched closely for tells.

“You know nothing about our mortality. Angels and Demons forget mortality once-”

“Yeah, yeah, but it’s logical, yanno? I can observe a mortal and it’s like, dude, you’re a fuck up, you’re a goody two-shoes, it’s obvious where you’re going. ” he shrugs a shoulder. “Those people are all eventually gonna be Angels or Demons. No two ways about it. ‘S just figuring out who is who, what goes where. Sometimes they all seem the damn same. I’m starting to wonder how they Judge up there. ”

John blinks a few times, and takes a cautious step back. This is treading territory he doesn’t like. Demons are nothing but trouble- always have been, always will be, Jane says.  
“You…a dumb demon like you shouldn’t be questioning how they Judge. Not even we question it. And we care about mortals.”

“What, you don’t think we care about mortals, either?” Dave outright laughs, and settles in on his feet again, making John feel a little better about all this talking.

“They’re souls. Souls we want to recruit, hire. See, someone once told me, hell’s not really like the furnace of constant burning pain you think it is. Nah. No way, pal.” He shakes his head, a toothy grin, his small but sharp canines an unnerving white. Perfect teeth, a frighteningly pretty smile. “It’s more like an office job. A desk and a phone and a nine-to-five gig for the rest of eternity. Our only entertainment?” he shrugs, pockets his hands, John watches, but barely pays attention.

Dave’s not the first Fledgling to dress slightly above or below his paygrade. The first time they interacted, John had been startled and confused- because Dave was a Fledgling, just like him, so he wore jeans and a button-down. John felt a wealth of power wash over him, though, the closer he got, and he came to the conclusion that Dave was a much /older/ Fledgling- but still a Fledge.

John realized soon enough, after the third or fourth encounter, that Dave treated clothing much like a mortal still would. He changed often enough and never really kept consistent. The ranks they had in the Afterlife usually determined what they wore, and as a Demon or Angel moved up, you dressed more formally. Sharper, cleaner, administrative-like images were important to demonstrate power. John assessed that Dave didn’t care about power because he thought he had enough to balance out the fact that he would dress how he liked.

It is very Prideful of Dave, but John knows better- Dave is a demon of Envy, not of Pride.

“Sex, drugs, rock’n’roll.” Dave is smirking and John is definitely at attention now, because those are just attention-grabbing words in Heaven. He scowls slightly.

“It’s corrupt. You all are.” He says, short and clean. John’s been training to deal with Demons, to talk to them directly, and he has been firmly encouraged not to engage too much with them. Yet, here he is, yapping away with this schmuck. Said schmuck just laughs and shakes his head. He goes to take a step forward, but stumbles and has to hold his arms out to wobble around and keep balance. “Shit!”

“Hahaha, numbnuts.” John snickers, and gives a small jump, hovering mid-air and clearly preparing to take flight.

Dave is a little pink in the cheeks and glares at John from behind his glasses. John knows this because he can see the furrow in his brow and the corners of his lips turn down ever-so slightly.

“Watch your mouth, Johnny boy. I may not be an Arch yet, but you don’t wanna piss me off.”

“I don’t think you have the heart to hurt me.” John admits, blunt and without fear. “This is, what, one of a dozen times? You’d have done it already.”

Dave simply leers, opens his mouth to say something, but John gives a powerful flap of his (still admittedly small) wings and he’s gone. When he arrives back up on the hill, he’s still lingering on the very idea that he had thrown into Dave’s face before leaving.

Why wasn’t Dave blowing him out of the water? Why were they even interacting? Their power levels didn’t match up, they shouldn’t be in the same space to fight over the same mortal so often. A handful of times they’ve met, and most of those times John has actually walked away victorious. He knows it’s not luck bringing them together, and he’s positive it’s not skill that’s allowing him to win against such a powerful opponent. John knows that he himself doesn't have any special leverage in Heaven, either.

So what does Dave want with him?


End file.
